


Spiders are a man's best friend (NOT)

by waydurie



Series: Araneae Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boyfriends, Fluff, M/M, special reinforcements, spider attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3317168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waydurie/pseuds/waydurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a spider in the shower, please relocate it. Now. -SH</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders are a man's best friend (NOT)

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on tumblr and I felt my spider senses tingling and I just had to write it. The urge was too much for my Johnlock heart.

First came a thump and then a series of crashing noises from inside the bathroom. Sherlock had gone into the bathroom a while back saying he was going to take a bath. Therefore, John knew better than to worry himself too much. A Sherlock in the bathroom warranted a mixture of sounds even before the water had a chance to heat up.

 

So John could only bother with lowering his newspaper down to his lap still remaining seated in his armchair. However, he did slightly turn his head to turn a closer ear for any other sounds. When none came, John turned back to finish his reading...of one of the more alternative articles of the Sun. Connie Prince had some useful tips on how to get hard stains out of clothes.

 

God knows how much that was needed in the Watson-Holmes household at the rate Sherlock left digestive juices stains on his hundred pound dress shirts.

 

It was a few minutes before John heard another sound from the bathroom, but that was to be expected if Sherlock had already begun banging around earlier. John thought it was probably that time of the month again where Sherlock reorganized his Lush products by smell profile and color.

 

Another loud thump sounded from down the hall yet again. However, this time, the noise was much louder than the last couple of bumps and thumps John had heard through the door. It wasn’t enough for John to grow entirely suspicious, however, it was enough for John to grow wary and impatient of the constant banging. Sherlock was a grown man, he was perfectly capable of taking a shower --or sorting his bath products without alerting Mrs Hudson and the rest of Baker street he’s doing so.

 

John heard the loudest thud he’d heard yet, more like a boom than a thump. This was getting ridiculous, thought John, Sherlock could be an annoying berk but damn. Even in the privacy of bathroom where there was no one he could show off to could that boy stir up a world of trouble.

 

And John loved Sherlock, really, he did. John loved Sherlock with all of his heart but there was a column of celebrity gossip that needed reading and these next few minutes would be the only free time he would get for a while. Well, more like the only time John had where Sherlock wasn’t asking him for favors.

 

There's a spider in the shower, please relocate it. Now. -SH

 

And why did that not surprise him? Of course he’d spoken too soon and Sherlock needs something from him --again. John let out a long sigh from where he sat in his armchair.

 

The spider has move 3.589 centimeters south-west. Is there a reason why you haven’t answered my text yet? -SH

 

2.9123 -SH

 

That’s how much the spider has moved in case you didn't know. Also, is there a reason you still haven’t responded nor moved from your armchair. -SH

 

John, don’t pretend you haven’t receive any of my last messages. I’ve been hearing your phone ring from down the hall this whole time. -SH

 

Answer me, god damn it. That thing just moved again. -SH

 

John -SH

 

It moved again -SH

 

Stop it from moving. -SH

 

As fun as it was to watch Sherlock squirm via text over a teensy tiny spider, John couldn’t help the tightening of his chest at the guilt of leaving Sherlock hanging, especially when his boyfriend was seconds away from ---

 

“John get in this bathroom now are god help me I will put hydrochloric acid on everything you love.” Sherlock screamed --excuse John, raised his voice from inside the bathroom. However, it wasn’t like Sherlock was serious, he was always finding ways to over exaggerate any situation that got out of his control. And who could’ve guessed a baby spider would’ve been Sherlock’s undoing.

 

“And if you think I’m joking, John, then you have another thing coming.”

 

John closed his eyes and counted to ten, then twenty, thirty sounded heavenly before finally heaving himself up and walking in the direction of the bathroom. “Fine Sherlock. What is it? What do you need that has you doing all of this screaming and hollering?”

 

“Come to the bathroom,” Sherlock said in an offbeat voice. “But bring a cup, pieces of paper, the beaker that has the green acid on the kitchen table, and maybe your gun if you can get to your room in time. Anything that’ll exterminate a spider the size about your face, that is if you really value your life.”

 

“I’ll grab the cup and the pieces of paper. But don’t you think the corrosive acid and getting my sig is going a little over the top?” Poor Mrs Hudson must be losing her mind with all of the raised voices and thumping coming from the tenants of 221B.

 

There was something of a squeal--a manly squeal that come from the bathroom, and surprise, another thump. Pause. Another yelp. “No measure is ever too drastic when there is a live spider in the same room as me.” John pretended he hadn’t heard Sherlock’s pitched voice as said boyfriend continued to thrash around in room that was maximum four feet by four feet.

 

John knocked once on the bathroom door before opening it just a crack. “Okay, Sherlock. I’m here with my big muscles and I’m ready for anything. Where’s that big bad spider who’s threatening to eat your soul?”

 

Sherlock harrumphed heavier than ever before. “John will you just get in here. There’s no time for games, I swear I just saw it move again. And this time I think it grew two inches in size.”

 

John even though he was still stationed at the doorway of the bathroom put in his two cents.

“I think you’re right. I also saw it grow but are you sure it was two? It looked more like four, maybe five millimeters, could be even bigger.”

 

The door was yanked open from under John’s hands, and he was met by a moody brunet in just his underwear, holding a spray bottle of disinfectant at the ready. “Har-de har har, John. You’re so funny. What did I ever do before meeting you?” Sherlock blew out a gust of air, and rolled his eyes.

 

John stepped into the bathroom and wrapped his arms lovingly around Sherlock. “You’re right, I’m sorry, Sher. I shouldn’t have made fun of you like that.” John pressed a tender kiss onto Sherlock’s cheek --if it was any consolation.

 

“No, you shouldn’t have. Now apologize. Again.” Sherlock pouted from within John’s arms.

 

John sighed.  And no he wasn’t annoyed, he secretly adored Sherlock’s needy tendencies, at times. “I’m sorry Sherlock, please forgive me.” Sherlock crossed his arms so John lightly squeezed Sherlock’s hips.

 

“I’ll think about it, but for now, handle the --the thing.” Sherlock overexaggerated a quiver.

 

John nodded stoically, “Onward. Now, show me the hearty beast.” John nodded towards the general direction of the bathtub where he guessed the spider would be.

 

“It’s over there.” Sherlock pointed to the space between the bathtub and toilet. “Now get to work, John. Make me proud, none of that half-assed business.”

 

“Sir, yes sir.” John threw in his best army salute from his army days knowing how much Sherlock was a sucker for things like that. “Let’s show that motherfucker of a spider who’s boss.” John pressed another kiss onto Sherlock’s cheek before moving forward.

 

If John was going to be honest… he too was maybe, a tad bit, not a lot, just a smidge terrified of eight legged creatures that looked suspiciously a lot like insects but weren’t.

 

Nevertheless, John got down onto his knees (not in that way, because of course no one’s mind was in the gutter) and peered into the space Sherlock had pointed to. Not only did John have to extract a possibly face melting spider for his adult boyfriend, but he had to do so in one of the tightest corners of the bathroom. It was John’s lucky day for sure.

 

At first John wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing, there was nothing there but the black and white squares of the porcelain tiling.

 

John felt Sherlock take a swipe at his back, “What is it John? What do you see? Has it pounced yet? Have you been killed? Is it dead?” Sherlock shaked John by the shoulders. “Wait here, I’m calling an ambulance. No it’s too late. I’ll call Molly, she’s a coroner, she can identify cause of death.”

 

John chuckled before he turned back to look at his boyfriend mid-hysteric. Placing his hand atop Sherlock’s on his shoulder, “Hun, calm down, I’m right here and very much alive. You have nothing to worry about, Sherlock, seriously. Don’t you think, I, Captain John Watson from the Northumberland Fifth Fusiliers can’t manage a teensy tiny spider? Have some faith.”

 

Sherlock bit his lip before taking a step back. “Just get it over with already, I have a time sensitive experiment that requires me to be as bacteria free as possible.”

 

“I’m almost done here Sherlock, give me a few more minutes and you’ll be taking a shower in no time.” John turned back to the spidey situation at hand. “But before I start, I need you to hand me the cup and the piece of paper.”

 

Sherlock scoffed but John felt the dull plastic clip the back of his head along with the swishing noise of falling paper. Of course it was too much to expect Sherlock to hand it to John the items in his hands but that was Sherlock, the man he’s chosen to love.

 

So John got to looking again for the criminal spider but zilch. John just couldn’t see this hulking spider Sherlock kept talking about. The oh so scary one that had Sherlock jumping all over the place. “Sherlock, are you sure what you saw was even a spider? I’m not saying you’re making this up, but I mean, I’m not seeing anything that looks remotely like --Jesus christ! Now that’s a spider.”

 

John got up on his feet and took a safe six steps back away from the toilet, away from the spider. That wasn’t a spider despite what anyone might say. That was a monster with eight legs that had decided to infiltrate Sherlock and his bathroom.

 

“And you thought I was lying. Ha! I told you John, a monster’s a monster and it must be terminated, effective immediately.” Sherlock grabbed John by the arms and pushed him by towards the toilet. “Now do what you have to.”

 

John muttered something about doing Sherlock’s dirty work and being a giant, lazy sod as he hesitantly stepped forwards. “Sherlock, I’m warning you now, I might not be the biggest fan of spiders but I’m not gonna kill the poor thing.”

 

“That is insubordination, you do as I say or --or I won’t let you do that thing you like with you...know what.” said Sherlock with a rabid blush blossoming on his face. “And I say you kill the thing.”

 

“Sherlock, no. No way, it hasn’t done anything to you --it hasn’t done anything to you Sherlock. And it’s probably more afraid of us than we are of it...Even if it does have six more legs than we do.” John tried to reason with Sherlock, but that seemed unlikely. There was no reasoning with Sherlock when the boy had his mind set.

 

With a thespian huff, “Whatever John. Just get it out of the house. Preferably out of the country.”

 

Ignoring Sherlock’s exaggeration as he was wont to do, John kneeled down into the tight corner space, sent a little prayer to the anti-entomology gods, and tightened his grip on the plastic cup.

 

Here goes nothing. John said to himself. Time to toughen up and become a man.

 

“You may proceed, John if you’re waiting for my go ahead.” And although John couldn’t see Sherlock, it didn’t stop the brunet from impatiently waving towards the haunted toilet.

 

“Sherlock, you know what. Shut up, just shut up and let me do this as quick as possible, yeah?”

 

No answer. That meant John had convinced Sherlock to zip his lips, he was starting to think spiders could be added to Sherlock’s list of all things kryptonite. (Along with facts of the solar system and people skill.)

 

John continued to crawl towards the spider, nothing in his life could’ve prepared John for this moment. It was John’s future on the line, and a flesh eating spider was waiting on the other side.

 

John breathed in once, twice, three times, before he finally opened his eye...And that spider was just not playing around was it? The last time John had looked, Fredward the Spider had been very calmly perched on the foot of the toilet. But now --now, Fredward was speeding across the bathroom floor faster than Speedy Gonzales in the direction of the bathtub.

 

And that was not a shriek that John let out, it was a pitched manly shout of protest which of course caught Sherlock’s attention. And the second Sherlock saw the monstrous (John really thought Sherlock had been exaggerating but that thing was like forty five inches long) spider, Mrs Hudson had an even more generous vocal performance at nine in the evening. Both John and Sherlock squeaked and squirmed as far away from the corner holding onto each other for dear life.

 

Fredward was literally scaling the side of the bathtub waiting to feast on their souls for night snack. This was a vicious world they lived in if such evil in the world existed and spiders got away scott free with taking over the world.

 

John was hyperventilating, Sherlock was barely breathing, and Fredward was enjoying each and every second of their torture. Holding onto each other, Sherlock stared at John and John stared at Sherlock and out of the bathroom door they bolted. Like hell they were going to stay in the same room as the creature seeking to end their life that also had ninja recon skills. Fredward had now made himself quite comfortable inside the actual bathtub and that was not okay. Not to Sherlock, not to John, not to anyone in this world.

 

And no, both men weren’t running away from their problems because that would involve facing their problems first. John had tried to face Fredward the Spider of Life Termination, but the overturned plastic cup on the floor along with the ripped pieces of paper said otherwise.

 

Sherlock ran into the living room...More like ran into the back of John’s armchair as he hurtled himself across the flat. There was never going to be enough space between him and that spider, that ungodly abomination.   

 

And guess who followed right behind. John ran into Sherlock who had already bulldozed into several more pieces of furniture. It was like a bull in a china shop the both of them. And John was not even a bit humiliated to be the first one to hop on the coffee table, shaking his hands like a crazy person.

 

And John would not let Sherlock hold it above him in the future because seconds later it was Sherlock who was right there besides him --atop of  the coffee table bouncing on the tips of his toes, lips curled in pure disgust.

 

Look at the pair of them, a couple of sissies they are, no doubt about it. “John, make it go away. Make it go away NOW!”

 

“And how do you expect me to do that Sherlock? That thing was about to eat my face if I didn’t get out when I did.” John waved his hands in the air dramatically.

 

Sherlock stared into John’s eyes with a hint of murder before grabbing the front of the other boy’s shirt, rattling anything John could’ve had to say out of him.

 

“John, that thing is still in our bathroom and it’s ready to kill us and if we don’t take action soon, who knows how many more spiders we’ll have on our hands, and that’s before the uprising. So I beg of you, do something for the love of god.” Sherlock gave John one last few shakes before turning his head to the side, hyperventilating.

 

John had a panicked look in his eyes, as he looked around, “Okay, okay here’s what we’re going to do.” John breathed in once, and then grasped onto Sherlock’s hands at the front of his shirt. “Since we can’t deal with the spider ourselves, which doesn’t make us weak at all, how ‘bout we call someone in to help us deal with the vermin. Reinforcements let’s say.”

 

“I don’t usually negotiate with terrorist like spiders but I see where you’re coming from...And it’s a plausible idea. Who do you have in mind?” Sherlock looked searchingly into John’s eyes, he had no time for games, this was still a matter of life or death.

 

“I think you know who I’m talking about.” John raised one of his eyebrows as did Sherlock. “Serious situations with dangerous offenders require the force of a heavy hand.”

 

“So, Lestrade, then?” Sherlock said with a hopeful quirk at the idea of not having to deal with the spider anymore --not like he ever had to in the first place. His hand was already halfway to his pocket ready to speed dial the detective inspector.

 

“Think bigger.” John said in a naughty (not like that) cadence. “Fredward has caused us a lot of trouble, he should pay for that.”

 

Sherlock groaned, but hung his head in resignation. “Fine, but I’m definitely not calling Mycroft.”

 

“ _ **Deal**_.” Give me your phone.


End file.
